


All for You

by Renai_chan



Series: Ethos of Trust [5]
Category: Captain America (2011), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: ALL the feels!, Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:32:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony’s insecurities are no longer unfounded and Steve’s life is twice as bright as before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All for You

**Author's Note:**

> They’re my OT3; for those who aren’t into them, I hope this convinces you ^^
> 
> Warnings: Threesome-M/M/M (no OT3 smut yet though, sorry), ALL the feels!

For all that Howard was no longer CEO of Stark Industries—the position he relinquished to Steve upon retiring on his 70th birthday while Tony was still in training to take over—he still held office in his old room at the SI Tower penthouse, he still attended meetings, he still did paperwork and he still required his approval on all major decisions.

 

Steve didn’t mind at all. For one, he wasn’t the type who liked being CEO; he much preferred his position as head of security, really, but Howard needed a replacement and Tony was just too young for it. Steve and Obi were Howard’s only choices and it was no secret what Steve thought of putting Obi in a position of power. For another, he knew Howard loved SI and couldn’t quite turn his back on it just yet. So Steve still asked for Howard’s opinions on all major decision and he still answered to all of Howard’s summons just as he had done in the past 40-odd years.

 

The chair in front of Howard’s desk was a familiar one, often attached to pleasant memories. However, as he sat before it now and looked into the pensive face of his best friend, he had to wonder if it was another pleasant memory he’d be adding to it.

 

“Steve,” Howard began, resting his elbows on top of a single plain white folder on his desk to clasp his hands together. The folder didn’t escape Steve’s notice and he wondered if that was what this was all about. He said nothing though. “You know I love you,” the former CEO said in all seriousness that Steve almost did not grasp. He nearly laughed aloud and only the mien Howard exuded stopped him from doing so.

 

“Of course I do,” he answered evenly.

 

“You’ve been my friend for almost half a century now, and you know me and I know you better than anyone else,” he continued. “You know I’d do anything for you, you only have to ask.” Steve nodded. “I’ve entrusted you with my life, my company and my son.” Steve nodded once more.

 

A pause.

 

“But you know that I love Tony even more than I love you.” Steve allowed another pause before he nodded, his previous amusement at Howard’s words disappearing entirely. “If you break his heart, Steve, I can and will make life very difficult for you,” Howard warned, slowly, cautiously, seriously. Steve held his gaze; he and Howard had never had this flicker of enmity between them before.

 

“Howard,” he answered, just as cautiously. “If I ever do break his heart, I’d _ask_ you to make life very difficult for me.” Howard searched his eyes to look for what he knew he’d never find. He seemed satisfied enough that he nodded his head and looked down at the folder on his desk. He flipped it over and slid it over to Steve’s side of the desk. Steve took a moment to stare at the SHIELD Logo stamped on the front before picking it up and opening it. Howard allowed him a few minutes to read, where Steve’s hands shook progressively harder.

 

“They found him, Steve,” he said, voicing what Steve had grasped the basic idea of. “Bucky’s alive.”

 

……………

 

_“If he came back to life, who’d you choose? Me or him?”_

 

Those words from his and Tony’s conversation many months ago haunted Steve as he looked through the files in the folder: detailed reports of where Bucky was found (right where Steve dropped him), extraction methods, witness accounts of agents present, vital statistics, medical reports, pictures…

 

 _“What does that_ matter _?! He’d dead! He won’t be coming back!”_

 

Steve slammed the folder shut over the image of Bucky, defrosted and under a medically-induced coma. He looked just as he did forty-four years ago: like the twenty-eight year old soldier Steve remembered him as. He could almost remember with vivid clarity the first time he had been with Bucky, when he had taken him as his sub: in the barracks while the others were having dinner after Steve had rescued them from that first Hydra weapons depot and Bucky had been pronounced fit as he could ever be.

 

Steve remembered planting his lips over Bucky’s and moaning while Bucky kissed back, how he whispered, desperately, that he’d make sure nothing would ever happen to him again, how Bucky laughed at that and pulled him on top… how Bucky pressed up into him, and begged—begged! As if Steve would have said no—to be fucked.

 

_“You took him as your sub because you love him. I’m you’re sub because you don’t want Obi to be my Dom!”_

 

Steve shook his head to clear it and stood up, leaving the folder on his desk. Bucky wasn’t his sub anymore—or at least he wasn’t the one that counted.

 

……………

 

“You’re distracted,” Tony murmured, caressing Steve’s cheek, and Steve tried not to let himself remember that those were the exact words he used that started their first and only real fight.

 

“Mmm…” Steve only answered and pushed into Tony again, extracting a cry from his sub. He licked and sucked at the bared neck below him, just above the ever-present collar he wore, as the younger man arched up. He took both of the slim wrists and pinned them up over Tony’s head, loving the way his pupils dilated from that single action. Tony attempted, briefly, to pull his arms away, testing the grip, but eventually succumbed to Steve. Satisfied, the Dom pulled himself out until just the head of his cock was in his sub and pushed back in with a slow thrust.

 

“Steve,” Tony murmured, his voice pleading. Steve knew what he wanted, but ignored it for the time being, keeping his pace slow and sensual while he kissed and nipped and bit and sucked at Tony’s neck, his ears, his lips.

 

“Steve, please,” Tony tried again, squirming beneath the bigger man, attempting to bring him to a lust-filled frenzy. Instead, Steve transferred both wrists into one hand and used his free hand to pin Tony’s hips down, holding him in pace as he sunk himself in and out of the tight heat.

 

“Steve… Steve, more… please, sir, more…” his sub whimpered, struggling against his hold more earnestly now. Steve groaned into his mouth, but ignored him anyway, thrusting at his leisure, enjoying the sensation around him and the way Tony whimpered desperately for more. He loved this; he loved wrecking Tony, pounding him hard and fast until he was sobbing into the sheets as he came, but he also loved the way Tony came apart when Steve wouldn’t give him that, when Steve teased with long, slow strokes.

 

His grip tightened around Tony’s wrists and hips as he came, not with force, but with the same leisure as his thrusts, and Tony very nearly wailed in desperation.

 

“Sir, please!” he cried. Steve let go of his wrists and pulled away to sit against the footboard, well out of Tony’s reach.

 

“On your knees, sweetheart,” he said and Tony obeyed immediately. “Stroke yourself. Touch yourself.” He watched as Tony did so, one hand grasping at his erection, the other slipping into his slicked hole, moaning at both the sensations. “Yeah, good boy,” Steve murmured. “Go on, you can come, darling. I want to watch.” Tony gasped at his own ministrations, his motions stiff and jerky, crying out as his orgasm peaked and rushed out of him, painting his hands and the bedspread with his come. It took him a few seconds to clear his vision, and when he did he crawled over to Steve and held out his come-covered hand. Steve grasped it at the wrist and wrapped each finger in his mouth, sucking every trace of the sticky white fluid into his mouth. Only then did Tony kiss him, moaning at the taste of himself in his Dom’s mouth. When he had his fill, he pulled away and appropriated himself on Steve lap, burying his face in the CEO’s neck.

 

“You haven’t told me why you’re distracted,” he said after a moment of silence. Steve tensed slightly beneath him then relaxed, his hands tracing patterns over Tony’s back.

 

“Your father spoke with me today,” he said.

 

“Hmm…?” Tony murmured sleepily. He’d usually scoff and say that Howard shouldn’t even be working anymore, but this time he only nuzzled Steve’s neck like a sated cat.

 

“He… he gave me something…”

 

“Mmm…”

 

“A SHIELD file. It was about a project of theirs that your father was apparently funding.”

 

“Which one?”

 

“Well, I didn’t know about it until today; actually, nobody but Fury does, apparently. Howard said it was a private funding, not one of the company’s…” This grabbed Tony’s attention. He sat up properly to look at Steve.

 

“What project?” he asked, curious, hesitant because there were few things Howard would keep secrets of, especially from both him and Steve.

 

“They—In Russia… A search expedition…” Steve said. “He was hoping to bring back a body… to bury… But the person they were looking for… was alive.”

 

“Who?” Tony asked, almost a whisper because he knew. _He knew_.

 

“Bucky.” The sub froze for what seemed like hours. He wanted to pull away, and he wanted to hold onto Steve and never let go because Bucky was back. He was alive. And Steve was going to have to choose between them. “Tony… Tony…” Steve was murmured, caressing his cheek and planting kisses on his face. “Tony, please…” He sounded hesitant and fearful and that’s what brought Tony back to the present.

 

“I asked you. Six months ago. You never answered me,” he said and Steve clenched his jaw. He knew the question. He didn’t know the answer.

 

_“If he came back to life, who’d you choose? Me or him?”_

 

“Tony…”

 

“I need a shower, Steve,” Tony said, desperately choking back a broken sob.

 

……………

 

He was pale on the sheets, and Steve’s eyes kept darting to the empty space on his left side, but he was almost exactly the same as he had been back then, as he had been the exact moment Steve dropped him into the ravine.

 

Phil had briefed him on his progress: he was out of the coma, his body functions were normal though there were still some minor injuries, his left arm had never been recovered and couldn’t be reattached anyway, he had been awake previously and had been attended to by psychiatrists, he knew where he was, _when_ he was, and he had been asking for Steve. When Steve had come, he had been asleep again, the drugs wearing him out often.

 

Steve looked at his left side again.

 

“It’s not going to grow back, you know,” a raspy voice said and Steve nearly wailed in surprise and anguish. Instead, he sat on the bed and grasped Bucky’s good hand in both of his. “You’re older,” Bucky said with a touch of a smile, shaking Steve’s hands off him so that he could reach up and stroke the side of his Dom’s face. Steve’s laugh was pained and he leaned into the touch.

 

“I should look a lot older than I do,” he said.

 

“You look good,” Bucky amended and Steve said nothing. “So, forty-four years, huh? What have I missed? God, everyone must be _grandparents_ by now.”

 

“Not all. Falsworth’s son is younger than Howard’s,” Steve tried not to choke on that. “Only eighteen, and Jacques never married. The others though, yeah. Peggy and Lorraine’s brood are all adorable and well mannered, as are Gabe’s, but Dum Dum’s are the rowdiest bunch of hooligans you’d ever meet.” Bucky cracked a smile.

 

“And you?”

 

“No,” he nearly choked again. “No children.” Bucky’s smile did not wane. “Bucky—”

 

“So you’ve been doing who all this time?” This time, Steve did choke on his saliva. It was easy to forget that Bucky was—had been—his best friend as well, crude jokes, casual gutter language and all.

 

“Bucky…”

 

“Aw, come on, Steve,” he said with a teasing grin. “It’s not as if I expected you to be celibate for forty four years. Give me a little more credit than that.” He lightly punched Steve on the shoulder. “So, who is she? Or he?”

 

“’He,’” Steve sighed deeply. “He’s Howard’s son.” Bucky’s eyebrow shot up.

 

“ _Really?_ ” he asked in the tone of a gossipy housewife. Steve punched him lightly.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And?”

 

“And what?”

 

“Details, Steve, _details_ ,” Bucky pressed teasingly. Steve rolled his eyes.

 

“God, you still gossip like a woman,” he said and Bucky only laughed. Steve joined in not a moment later before checking his watch. “Look, Buck, I’ve got a meeting to attend in like thirty minutes…”

 

“No, no. Yeah, yeah, go,” Bucky said, pushing Steve off the bed.

 

“I—” Steve started as he neared the door.

 

“Hey, now. None of that,” Bucky’s smile was brilliant. “I’m sure he’s amazing, and he deserves you and I’d really like to meet him sometime, yeah?” Steve bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you later, won’t I?” Steve nodded again. “Great. Go, go. Your meeting won’t wait.”

 

……………

 

Tony lifted Steve’s arm and slipped out of his grasp carefully. Steve was notoriously the world’s lightest sleeper, and it had taken all of Tony’s wiles to get him to the point of utter somnolence. He’d had to wear him out so thoroughly with sex (not something that was in any way easy, mind you, because Steve had the stamina of a motherfucking super soldier and Tony was only human) that even Tony felt particularly drowsy.

 

But no, he had a mission and he intended to see it through.

 

“Wh’re y’ goin’?” Steve mumbled into the pillow his face was smooshed against and Tony winced. Fucking light sleeper.

 

“Bathroom,” he said and relaxed only when Steve nodded. Tony slipped further off the bed and to the closet, grabbing the closest pair of jeans and a t-shirt until he stopped and considered his outfit carefully.

 

He was sneaking out to see his Dom’s ex. It required him showing up in something that had a bit more panache.

 

Instead, he put on one of his best suits and ties and stole into the bathroom to splash some water on his face, put on aftershave and comb his hair. He still looked a little bit of a wreck, but that was because he had spent the last three hours being fucked into oblivion. Not a bad way to meet Bucky, so Tony didn’t mind. He slipped out of the bedroom and into the garage, which was thankfully far away enough that Steve wouldn’t hear him gunning the engine, and drove off in his Ferrari.

 

The SHIELD parking lot was empty, of course. He pulled in and shut the engine off before taking a small device from the glove compartment and stowing it in his pocket. He planted ear buds in his ears and hopped out of the vehicle to the building entrance.

 

An agent stood in the front, tension increasing as Tony approached. Tony didn’t have to speak though; he only pressed the single button on the device he had brought and the agent fell to the floor, unconscious. Tony slipped by him, unconcerned; he’d be up again in about 15 minutes. By then, it wouldn’t matter because Tony would have already been caught by the agent watching the security cameras. It was also just enough time for him to get to Bucky’s room.

 

Several more agents fell to the ground, dropping like flies as Tony passed, easily allowing him passage to Medical Ward 223. He paused for a moment at the door, took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

 

Inside, Bucky was asleep on the bed, various monitors beeping calmly. Tony’s gaze was immediately drawn to the missing limb on his left, but he quickly lost interest in favor of approaching and looking into Bucky’s face. He made no move, no noise as he observed the other sub.

 

“You’re not planning on killing me are you?” Bucky suddenly mumbled, his eyes still shut. Tony startled and took a step back.

 

“Wh—what?”

 

“Well you are standing rather ominously over me.” The sergeant’s eyes finally opened to reveal laughing brown orbs, lighter than most.

 

“I—I wasn’t…” Bucky simply chuckled.

 

“I see,” he said, pushing himself up, with some difficulty, into a sitting position. Tony wondered if he should offer assistance. “You aren’t a doctor…” Bucky observed and took a look at the suit he wore: gray with the thinnest pinstripes and a mauve silk shirt underneath. “And you aren’t one of them. You must be Howard’s boy.”

 

“You—you know…?”

 

“You’re rather painfully obvious about your clothes, and you look quite a lot like him.” Bucky’s words were light and easy but his tone conveyed different emotions. Tony held his gaze evenly. “I know you’re Steve’s—”

 

“I am,” Tony cut in.

 

“And you came here because?” The younger man took a long while to respond. He looked at the far wall, mentally evaluating his next choice of words.

 

“Because I love Steve.” He waited for the scoff from the other sub; he didn’t doubt after all that Bucky also loved Steve. It never came though, prompting Tony to peer at the soldier. “Because I love him, and I know he loves you, and I know it’s eating him inside that he has to choose.” Tony sighed softly. “And I don’t want him to have to make that choice.”

 

“Huh,” Bucky remarked, throwing his legs over the side of the bed to look properly at the other sub. Tony didn’t understand the tone, though, so he continued talking.

 

“I came here because I wanted to see you… to know who I’m losing him to… and… and to let you know that I… I’m breaking our bond.” Bucky gaped at that. “He wants you back. He’s always wanted you, and I only want to make him happy.”

 

“Huh,” Bucky remarked again, his tone different this time, as if he was thoroughly unimpressed and disappointed in Tony. Tony glared at him for that.

 

“What? I just told you I’m giving Steve up to you.”

 

“You’re selfish and you’re an idiot,” Bucky crossed his arm over his chest, or tried to before remembering he only had one of them. Instead, he awkwardly set it back against his side. Tony noticed the motion—how could he not?—but he made no comment. “If you think that I’m going to be the bad guy by letting you do that, you are sorely fucking mistaken. I’ve seen how Steve talks about you; he loves you so fucking much that it makes me so fucking jealous every time he says your name. If you do that, don’t you think you’ll be hurting him even more?” Tony looked chastised.

 

“He’ll get over it…” he answered, a slight lilt at the end showing just how unsure he was.

 

“Stupid,” Bucky muttered under his breath. Then louder, “I’ve been technically dead for forty-four years, and you’re telling me he never got over me. If you’re telling me that he’ll get over you, I don’t think you deserve being called a genius.”

 

“We were arranged. You weren’t,” Tony said.

 

“Does that matter? Why should you think that you’re the only one that wants this thing between you, arranged or not?”

 

“I’m a sub! I’m supposed to make the sacrifices! I’m supposed to be hurt to make him happy!”

 

“Stop being stupid!” Bucky said sharply. “Haven’t I spent the last three minutes telling you he _won’t_ be happy if you do that?”

 

“So, what?” Tony asked, derision dripping from his tone. “We’ll split him? Is that it? You get him on weekends, I get him on weekdays?” Bucky stared at him for such a long time, consideration clear on his face, that Tony was almost tempted to ask if he was seriously considering that, but he said ‘I have a better idea’ before he could ask.

 

The sniper slid fluidly off the bed and stepped right up into Tony’s personal space, cupping his cheek and tilting his head up slightly. And then Bucky’s mouth was on Tony’s, and he could only let out a small surprised gasp which was enough, it seemed, for Bucky to slip his tongue in and stroke the other’s. The single hand held the shorter man’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted his head up more to deepen their kiss until Tony let out a soft moan, and his hands moved to grip Bucky’s waist.

 

Of course, that was when the alarms chose to go off, and Bucky pulled back in surprise. Tony only chuckled and said, “Took them long enough.” He had been there all of ten minutes.

 

The door opened and Nick Fury strode in, followed by Coulson and two other agents.

 

“Uncle Nick!” Tony exclaimed in false surprise, opening his arms for what seemed like a hug. Nick turned an admonishing eye on him, but Tony seemed unrepentant, his mouth smiling widely. Nick sighed.

 

“Tony, you broke in,” he started. “You _broke in_! What have I told you about doing that?”

 

“That I shouldn’t?” Tony asked cheekily.

 

“Damn _right_ you shouldn’t,” Nick gave another long-suffering sigh. “I will have to confiscate that little gadget of yours, of course.” He held out his hand and Tony pressed the neutralizer in it, pouting. It was all for show of course; he was planning to give it to Nick eventually anyway as a present of sorts. “Steve will be here in ten minutes to pick you up. In the meantime, will you tell me _why_ you’ve paralyzed half my night guard at two ‘o clock in the morning?”

 

“I’m sure you’ll watch the videos, Uncle Nick,” Tony grinned, patting his cheek and earning a glare. He peered over Nick’s shoulder to wave at Coulson. “Hi, Phil.” Coulson only rolled his eyes, but Tony knew he was smiling inside.

 

Bucky’s eyebrow was raised in surprise and amusement; Nick always gave off this sort of _air_. The kind of air that let you know, within the first three seconds of meeting him, that he was a bad-ass motherfucker and was _not_ to be trifled with. But here was this brat, pushing him around, and he was allowing himself to be pushed around.

 

Well, it seemed like the Director had a soft spot after all.

 

True to his words, Steve came in about eight minutes after that. The two agents had left, and Bucky had spent the time watching and being rather thoroughly impressed as Tony explained his new ideas for better weapons and defense systems to Nick and Coulson, who both watched with indulgent smiles in their eyes, if not on their lips. Steve came in with his hair windblown and a jacket thrown over jeans and a plain white t-shirt looking all for the world like he had just been dragged out of bed (he had just been, really).

 

“Tony!” His exclamation bore relief, annoyance and exasperation, and Tony only beamed. Nick turned to him, an eyebrow raised, and Steve flushed quite thoroughly. “Sorry, Director. I had thought he went down to the lab… you know how he is.”

 

“And yet your super soldier senses did not seem to pick up that he had driven three miles away to assault my staff and break into my building, imagine that.” Steve coughed.

 

“Was tired,” he mumbled in a soft voice. Tony, the imp, leaned over to whisper something in Nick’s ear, making the Director emit another long-suffering sigh (because Nick Fury did _not_ blush, thank you very much), and Steve glared at his sub sharply.

 

“Well, it seems as if you three have things to talk about,” he said, standing and turning to the genius. “Tony, no more breaking and entering,” he warned with a sharp glare before glancing at Steve. “Steve, watch him.” Steve nodded dumbly. “And you,” Nick looked at Bucky who held out his hand innocently. “Stay out of trouble.” Steve and Bucky both saluted (one reverently, the other much too casually), while Tony stood on his tiptoes and pressed a smack to Nick’s cheek before he walked out and waggled his fingers at him in an impudent wave as the door was shut.

 

Steve then turned to the two subs when the door had closed, a serious mien on his face that seemed to drag the atmosphere with it.

 

“Tony…” he started with a deep sigh.

 

“I had to know, Steve,” Tony answered sullenly.

 

“And you couldn’t have told me? I would have taken you.”

 

“And what? Stood guard while we make nice at each other?” Tony crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“No, I…” Bucky stepped closer to Steve and put a hand on his arm.

 

“Steve,” he murmured. “Let it go. He needed this; I needed this. I think we all did, okay?” Steve looked at the hand on his arm, then at Bucky, then at Tony.

 

“I…” he trailed off. He could find the words to say. “I can’t choose…” he finally whispered in defeat, his shoulders slumping as he moved to sit on the bed, pressing his face in his hands. Tony and Bucky exchanged glances. “I just can’t. I’ve spent the last two weeks thinking about it, but I… I don’t want to lose either of you. I _can’t_ lose either of you. You—” His sentence was cut short as Bucky slid himself onto his lip, tilted his head up and kissed him quite thoroughly. He moaned into Bucky’s mouth because it was the first time they had kissed in forty-four years, and it felt exactly the same as it did back then: really, really damn good. Before he could worry about Tony, though, the younger sub slid onto the bed behind him, pressed up against his back and trailed kisses over the exposed skin above the jacket collar. The action startled him away from Bucky’s lips and he turned his head to look at the genius. “Tony?”

 

“I think Bucky and I have come to an understanding,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss just behind his ear.

 

“So that you don’t _have_ to choose,” Bucky added, nuzzling his jaw.

 

“What…?” was Steve’s rather intelligent question, but come on. A guy has a pair of gorgeous subs, who he both loves very, very much, doing rather pleasurable things to him; he’s entitled to lose a few brain cells in the process. Tony and Bucky’s gazes met over Steve’s shoulder, and without verbal prompting, Bucky cupped the back of Tony’s head to pull him closer. Steve’s eyes widened as he watched his subs trade a rather hot kiss in front of him, tongue, moans and all, and couldn’t very well help the tightening of his pants.

 

“So…” Bucky said when they had pulled apart. “No choosing, okay?” Steve shook his head briefly to clear it.

 

“Oh my god,” he only answered. “You two are planning to kill me, aren’t you?” His sigh was amused though, so Tony and Bucky ignored him and each asked for a kiss which he granted happily.


End file.
